


Function

by Minky-way (Cardgamesonmotorcycles)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:05:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardgamesonmotorcycles/pseuds/Minky-way
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were like a well oiled machine, except an old one, with parts falling off almost as fast as this metaphor is falling apart</p>
            </blockquote>





	Function

Sei being upset comes in so many different forms that sometimes it’s all Mizuki can do to even register he’s upset, his emotions wavering between one form and the other often so many times in a day that just as he’s adjusted to one the balance has shifted and he’s lost again.

Sometimes he’s cold, horribly so, and distant, shrugging out of hugs and squirming away from his kisses, going out for too long and not telling him where he’s been even though Mizuki knows he will have been to see Noiz and Aoba. Or sometimes he just announces he’s going out and leaves before the bartender gets a chance to even respond. On the worst days he just leaves without speaking and Mizuki has to trust he’ll be back by the time they usually crawl into bed.

Or he’ll pretend to be okay when it’s obvious he isn’t, get defensive and snappy and unnecessarily hurtful when Mizuki tries to comfort him, to ask what’s wrong or to try and help. But then those days, although the worst because he hates it when everything he says only seems to irritate Sei more, are also the ones that always end with him becoming clingy and needy. Being hard and icy until Mizuki can’t take any more and retires to bed earlier, Sei almost hissing at him when he tries to kiss his forehead and remarking again that he’s fine, demanding he leave him alone in that tone of voice that almost scares him.

But he knows that within an hour he’ll climb into bed next to him and worm under his arm, probably won’t apologise for behaving like that, but will just lie there silently and sniffle a little but never cry, just listen to the sound of him breathing until he can roll away and fall asleep. Or he’ll just come up behind Mizuki in the kitchen, because Sei’s not good at being productive when he’s upset, will plaster himself to his back as he cooks and get completely in the way but the bartender never minds much because it is so reassuring for him to be close again.

He likes to listen to him reading sometimes too, even if what he’s reading is infinitely dull or makes no sense to him, even if it’s a description of a new tattoo gun he’s thinking of buying, he likes to curl up in between his legs and rest his ear on his chest and hear him talk. Sometimes they’ll both lapse into silence and one with tangle fingers with the other and only then will Sei talk, try to explain why he feels the way he does and Mizuki will listen quietly and play with his hair and kiss his temple when he’s done.

Or he’ll cry, and despite what people thought he didn’t cry that much, only when something really terrible happened, when he and Mizuki argued and said hurtful, cruel things to each other, or when his Grandma got sick, or when Ren caught a Rhyme bug and was broken down for too long. Just once he returned from Noiz’s crying, he’d never explained why, but the next time he saw the German he looked like he’d been beaten by an entire rugby team and while he’d never understood him, he understood Sei and knew why that would upset him.

Sometimes he was embarrassed to cry, and he’d try to hide it, blaming it on hay fever that he didn’t have or on an allergy to something they both knew he’d always reacted fine to before. He needed cuddles, and junk food and terrible trashy movies when he cried, or a whole pint of ice cream, or sometimes just to be left alone to cry it out until he inevitably called for Mizuki and cried on him instead.

Or he’d get angry, not at anyone or anything in particular, just at the world, would go about his tasks with hard set shoulders and curse under his breath and grumble when anything went remotely wrong. Or he’d let himself get so wound up he’d end up snapping while washing up or clearing dishes off the table, would drop one fork and have a meltdown and end up throwing something or screaming expletives to nobody and about nothing then bursting into tears because he’d never been good at anger and now he felt guilty. So Mizuki would help clean up the mess, bandage his bloodied fingers where the sharp plate had cut him and would remind him, over and over, softly, that it was okay to be angry, that he was allowed to feel that way and that Mizuki wasn’t mad at him, that he had nothing to feel bad for.

Sometimes all he needed was a distraction so he would pull Mizuki into their bedroom and kiss him with a look in his eyes akin to desperation that made the tattooists skin prickle uncomfortably. He did it because it was what Sei needed, and he knew that somehow he always felt better afterwards even if it wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with whatever was bothering him. He did it for Sei, and not for himself, making sure he got an hour, maybe even two of pure distraction where he couldn’t think about much but warm skin on his and soft lips kissing everywhere they possibly could as if they could kiss his unhappiness away.

Mizuki is by no means the best at differentiating between these forms, but he tries his best and most of the time it seems he gets it right, sure sometimes he gets it completely wrong and only makes things worse, but even then the way Sei expresses his feelings changes, and after one mistake Mizuki always gets it right. They deal with it in their own way, whether Sei needs space or wants it gone completely, whether he is crying in the shower then getting out and pretending he is fine, or whether he is knocking paint off the walls because he used the wrong kanji and threw his notebook across the room.

They manage, and Sei always explains in the end, whether with prompting or just because it bursts out, and he always smiles again even if it takes a couple of days, and even if it seems like a lot of effort to look after him when his moods shift, Mizuki does it because he loves him and because seeing people in pain has always made him ache.

Sei does it back too, when the bartender finally admits weakness and let’s himself be vulnerable, runs fingers through his hair and hums, or pretends nothing is wrong and continues to read his book as Mizuki lies in his lap and tries to summon up words to explain the turmoil in his chest.

Mizuki, despite popular belief, cries far more than Sei ever has or probably ever will, he cries when he’s frustrated, and angry and tired, he cries far too easily and he’s aware of both that and the shift in him since they began dating. He cries when his sleeping tablets aren’t working and he’s been at work all day and all the night before and is running on less than four hours of sleep and just wants to crash but can’t. Tears of frustration as he lies there unable to sleep, tablets just making him feel disgustingly drowsy and almost drunk without actually letting him drift off, catches maybe an hour of shallow sleep and drags himself out of bed with baggy eyes and limbs so painful and unrested he cries at the pain.

Sometimes he cries about the past, when Aoba has visited with an excited, blissful grin and waving a postcard from the adoptive parents Sei has never even met, is jealous and bitter and thinks only horrible things instead of being pleased for them. Or when somebody leaves Dry Juice and the fear of being abandoned overwhelms him again until he almost can’t breathe and Sei has to hold his palm to his heart and remind him to just breathe, remind him that he’s still there and everything is okay.

Or he is angry, but he is dry anger, when people say things about Sei or his friends that he doesn’t like, or when people just irritate him until it all builds up. He shouts and throws things and gets nasty and then Sei is upset and that just makes him turn the anger on himself. Sometimes he is violent, will go too far when somebody bothers them on the street and will have hit them before he quite registers it, will know it was too much but still be boiling over with rage. Has punched holes in the wall of his apartment more than once and has utterly destroyed a punching bag, smashed plates and ornaments and thrown books, broken some precious things and felt awful afterwards.

Sei knows to keep his distance when he is like that, for though he knows Mizuki will never hurt him, he wouldn’t like to get caught in the crossfire, not when he is suddenly so sour and almost jealous, sneering at anybody who tries to reason with him and face twisted nastily. He knows to wait until the anger has passed, until he has stormed out to go jogging until exhaustion replaces the rage. He enters with a guilty expression and the hurt that started it all is still there but now Sei can help with it, can pull on his hand with a small smile and encourage him into a hug, let him know he isn’t scared of him, that he might have been before but that now everything is okay.

He is reluctant to accept comfort when he is like this, when he’s been unreasonable and often cruel, feels he doesn’t deserve it but that is ridiculous and Sei knows it so he refuses to let him evade his touches, wraps him up in his arms on the couch and takes charge. Plays with his hair and rubs circles into his stomach when he curls up behind him as they watch something, anything really, to get Mizuki’s mind off it until he can roll over and try to explain or just exhale tiredly and fall silent and peaceful against Sei’s body.

Clinginess isn’t really something he does, he prefers to deal with his emotions by himself, which is nearly always a foolish idea and Sei lets him know that, instead he does the opposite, stays in the bar or studio too long. Dives headfirst into work and drives himself into the ground, stays up til stupid hours sketching designs nobody has asked for or that could wait then goes into work on such little sleep it is no wonder he can’t think straight.

Or Sei will wake up to find the entire apartment cleaned and breakfast made for them, food left in the fridge for him to reheat for lunch, anything to get his mind off his problems, pushing them away with domestic tasks and overbooking himself for tattoos so he finishes work late. It hurts a little to be pushed away, but Sei likes to think he understands and he can manage fine by himself anyway, tries to remind Mizuki of his presence when he can, in the quick kiss when he crawls into bed at four am when he has to be up by eight, in the notes ended with kisses when he’s going out and Mizuki is still busy pretending to be okay.

It is alright, Sei thinks, to be reminded that neither of them behave the way they do due to any animosity towards the other, always ensuring that after the problems have been discussed and some of the hurt has faded that they remind each other of their feelings. Even if it makes the guilt worse to be told Sei loves him as they patched up a hole in the wall, or if it made Sei cry more when Mizuki reminded him, they needed to be reminded sometimes. It was nice, very nice, to have somebody to comfort them when they needed it and to back away when they needed that, to have somebody in tune with their feelings, who made them both feel valid even if the issues were admittedly minor, and, small setbacks aside, they functioned remarkably well.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr @ [minky-way](http://minky-way.tumblr.com)


End file.
